Trip to Michel Delving
by Arabella Thorne
Summary: The conclusion: Little Frodo takes a break from the cousins in Brandy Hall and takes a much needed holiday with his Uncle Bilbo to the Michel Delving Fall Festival. And then, he gets sick.....and he meets some unexpected friends....
1. Default Chapter

This is my first attempt at a sick Frodo tale...at the time I wrote it, I was unaware of another fic close to the same plot...this deals with a young Frodo who's only at his uncles for a visit from Brandy Hall. It is AU.  
  
  
  
  
  
Young Frodo watched as his Uncle Bilbo left to join the after dinner crowd in the common room downstairs.  
  
"Are you sure you won't come down with me Frodo? There's bound to be plenty of folks you know."  
  
"No thank you uncle. I am just tired from all the walking today. Perhaps tomorrow!"  
  
"All right then. Sleep well!"  
  
The eight-year-old Frodo smiled tightly as his uncle left.  
  
The moment he did, Frodo gasped out loud and bent over double, plopping to the floor. He had never had a stomachache like this before! He looked ruefully at the crumpled bag of horehound candy on the bureau. Perhaps it was really too much candy. But the sharp pain was like nothing he had ever felt before, not even when he and Merry had raided the kitchen garden at Brandy Hall and eaten a whole bush of blackberries between them.  
  
The thought of food made him feel queasy and he got up and went to the small dining table where he and Bilbo had shared their supper.  
  
Frodo had not been able to finish, telling his uncle the small fib that he did not care for the spices in the stew.  
  
Bilbo had looked at him concerned and said solicitously, "You aren't sickening, are you Frodo, my lad?"  
  
That being too close to the truth, Frodo shook his head emphatically "no."  
  
Bilbo smiled and said, "Just so long as that is the only reason you are not eating!"  
  
Frodo had smiled back and said, "Of course Uncle. It is just the food."  
  
The young hobbit got up nervously and went and sat on the bed, still holding his stomach. This was not only his first day here, but his first visit ever to the annual Fall Festival in Michel Delving and he had really been looking forward to it!  
  
He had only been given a two-week stay with his Uncle Bilbo, as everyone thought it would be good for the hobbit child to get some individual attention. Something he was sorely lacking in the crowded halls of the Brandybucks. Needless to say, this was the first time he had gone to an event such as this. There had been little time for such frivolities at Brandy Hall for an orphaned cousin.  
  
Frodo curled up on the bed, hoping the change in position would help and just as he thought he might actually be able to relax, the sharp pain returned.  
  
"I can't tell Uncle Bilbo I am sick," he thought, tears sparkling in his eyes. "Then we'll have to go home and I will never get to the Mathom Sale!"  
  
Pacing the small room did no good either, and finally, Frodo impulsively decided to get some fresh air.  
  
Carefully going down the back stairs, which led to the stable yard, Frodo crossed the smooth stone courtyard. Finding a back gate, he opened it and saw a path that followed the creek running behind the Hidden Haven Inn.  
  
He walked along slowly, still clutching his painful stomach. Suddenly, the little dinner he had eaten forced itself up, and the small hobbit threw up against a tree. Leaning against the trunk until the nausea passed, Frodo wiped his mouth with a grimace and then staggered away. Oh, that had really made his stomach hurt! He walked unsteadily away and rubbed his tummy, trying to get the tight muscles to relax.  
  
Perhaps it was the crisp fall air and the bright stars, but he began to feel himself calm down some and he cautiously let his arms fall from holding his stomach.  
  
Frodo, relieved the pain had faded away, started singing an old Elvish song Bilbo had taught him on the trip to Michel Delving to bolster his spirits. Caught up in the song, he strolled far longer and farther than he intended.  
  
As he finished the last chorus, he thought he heard an answering voice singing harmony and paused. Looking around, he frowned slightly as he noticed he was deep in the woods to the west of town. He listened again for the singer, but all was silent.  
  
Shaking his head, he smiled to himself. No one around here would know Elvish! Why he barely knew it himself! Uncle Bilbo had promised to teach him more that just the song too. He turned and went back to Michel Delving, glad he had taken the walk, still humming the song. And just before he reached the end of the woods, again, he thought he heard the chorus of the song repeated softly. But it sounded far away, like an echo. Frodo looked up at the night sky and saw the Mariner's Star, Earendil. Feeling a bit saucy, in spite of his stomach, he saluted it.  
  
As he avoided a farmer's cart loaded with hay close to town, the stomach pain returned with a vengeance, and caught off guard by the intensity, Frodo, tripped and fell into a dry drainage ditch that paralleled the road.  
  
Scrambling painfully back to the road, he looked ruefully at the hole in his pants that revealed a skinned knee as well. Just one more thing to worry Uncle Bilbo!  
  
Limping, with tears in his eyes, he made his way back to the inn.  
  
It seemed to take forever to go up the back stairs and he was never so glad to reach his room.  
  
Just as he was about to go in though, he heard voices on the other side of the door. Pausing to listen (a survival technique he had learned at Brandy Hall), he heard his uncle say to someone, ".if that is really the case, Marga, the other Brandybucks should be told. It might not just be me who has gotten the worst of the lot. Heaven knows I don't want anything diseased in Bag End. I shall have to insist on a return."  
  
Frodo moved away from the door and fell against the corridor wall aghast.  
  
Was Uncle Bilbo going to send him back to the Brandybucks ?  
  
"He must have known I was really sick," Frodo thought. "And taking care of me has just gotten to be too much for him. I disturb his writing and his gardening and his mushroom hunting." The last thought made his stomach roil, and he bent over, trying to swallow his exclamation of pain.  
  
Not wanting to embarrass Bilbo by walking into his conversation in his "diseased" condition, Frodo sadly went down the corridor and down the stairs again.  
  
Where could he go?  
  
Looking around, he thought of the stables, but he knew they were crowded with horses and ostlers and it wasn't likely he could sneak in there unobserved.  
  
Still gripping his stomach, he went back out the small gate to the river path, trying to find a place for the night at least. He knew, with these pains, he would not be able to sleep much. So hopefully, in a few hours, his Uncle Bilbo would be deep in dreams and Frodo could sneak back into their room and get his rucksack.  
  
The water of the stream beckoned, making Frodo realize how thirsty he was. He bent and drank carefully several handfuls and then got slowly up and continued his ramble.  
  
Spying a platform obviously made by children in the crotch of an oak leaning over the stream, Frodo clambered up and huddled next to the bole of the tree, shivering in the fall night air.  
  
Staring through the leaves, Frodo saw Earendil again, twinkling hopefully it seemed to him. Maybe he could go live with the elves. Bilbo had always told him how nice the elves were in Rivendell.  
  
Able to sleep for a few hours, Frodo awoke gasping in pain again. Would this never stop? Getting up stiffly, he rubbed his skinned knee, wincing and then slowly made his way back down the tree and returned to the inn.  
  
Creeping up the back stairs, he went to their room and unlocked the door. But no one was in there! Where had Bilbo gone? He hadn't left Michel Delving already, had he?  
  
Frodo went to the bureau and was relieved to see Bilbo's things were still in the drawers. Grabbing his belongings, Frodo hastily stuffed them into his rucksack. Well, he might as well take advantage of Bilbo's absence. Perhaps he had gone visiting with friends and was still in a corner by the fire telling stories. He loved to tell stories. And Frodo paused a moment and swallowed a sob. What he would give to be listening to Bilbo recite a poem by the cheery fire in the Bag End parlor! If only he wasn't "diseased!"  
  
Finished packing, Frodo looked around again, eyes filled with tears quietly crept out.  
  
In a few minutes, he was back under the oak. Looking up into the branches, he sighed, wincing at his painful stomach. He didn't have the energy to climb again.  
  
Adjusting the straps of his rucksack, he started following the stream again.  
  
Bilbo had stayed up late talking with friends, right in the inn common room. Since his travels rarely took him this far west, he had lots of catching up to do. And he had gotten quite a few stories to share with young Frodo!  
  
But the four hobbits gathered in a circle not only realized the late hour, but saw the fire had sunk to glowing coals. Cheerily saying good night, they split up and went their various ways.  
  
Humming under his breath, Bilbo unlocked the door and went in. it took him a moment to realize there was no youngster sleeping in the other bed.  
  
"Frodo?" He called out quietly. But there was no answer. Bilbo even looked under the bed, but no Frodo.  
  
Pausing in the middle of the room, he tried to think if he had mentioned anyone he would go visiting with, but no one came to mind.  
  
Waiting to see if perhaps he gone to the privy, he got worried after a half hour and went out of the inn in search of his missing nephew 


	2. A meeting with the elves

Frodo continued tramping in the woods.  
  
But he was getting more and more tired and as he looked around, he decided he needed to find a place to rest. His stomach pain seemed to have tapered off once more, for which he was grateful.  
  
Coming upon a stand of hawthorn bushes, he decided it would do as a place he could curl up and go to sleep.  
  
Wearily the little hobbit was just about to toss his rucksack under the branches, when he heard faint singing again. And once again, in Elvish? The unusual sound of the ancient language made him forget briefly his stomach troubles.  
  
The singing seemed to call to him and smiling slightly through his tears, Frodo moved on into the woods, entranced by the melody.  
  
He was getting tired of being slapped in the face from branches he could not see in the dark, when he realized that the singing had stopped. Peering around himself, he could not determine where he was and began to get afraid.  
  
Quivering, slightly chilled, Frodo was encouraged when he saw the faint glow of light ahead! Perhaps some one's camp, or a cottage! He crept closer.  
  
It took the child several minutes to reach the source of the light And what he saw made him forget briefly his pains.  
  
They were elves!  
  
Brushing through the dark shaggy shapes of bushes, Frodo felt his stomach recoil again. He fell to his knees and painfully rubbing his skinned knee into the dried leaves, tossed up his stomach contents. He dropped to his side, in agony now and tried swallowing the awful taste in his mouth as he hugged his stomach.  
  
Frodo wanted to lie down right there and have a good cry, but then the elves would hear him and.....  
  
The bushes parted and a soft light fell on the hobbit child's face and he blinked, frightened.  
  
An elf holding a lantern, knelt at the little one's side, immediately perceiving his distress. Placing the lantern on the ground, the elf turned and said something in Elvish over his shoulder and was quickly joined by another elf.  
  
Frodo dizzily sat up with the one elf's help and rubbed a hand across his face. "I-I am sorry, sir elf. I am not feeling well..."  
  
Just then a third elf joined them. He too was tall and dark-haired, and as the other two parted with a slight bow, to make way for him, Frodo noticed how kind his eyes were, glittering in the lantern light. The elf knelt down and said, "A halfling child! Little one, what are you doing out here in the woods at this hour?"  
  
"I-I am running away because my Uncle Bilbo does not want me anymore. He says I am "diseased," and---"  
  
"Bilbo? Bilbo Baggins of Bag End?"  
  
"Yes, he is my uncle. I am Frodo. We are here for the fair...." Another stomach cramp hit Frodo just then and he bent over in pain, tears clouding his eyes.  
  
Frodo gasped as the tall elf picked him up gently, saying, "I am Elrond, young Frodo. Let us get you inside where I can more easily determine what is wrong, all right?"  
  
Frodo nodded mutely as he was brought into a beautiful white pavilion where a table, two chairs sat and several woven rugs were spread. The two elves followed behind the dark-haired elf and quickly cleared the table of dishes. The one candelabra was lit and fresh candles put to the side.  
  
Alarmed at the pale and sweating face of the young hobbit, Elrond lay him on the table to make it easier to examine him.  
  
Another of the elves brought a cushion for Frodo's head and gently took his rucksack and his new brown velveteen jacket.  
  
Elrond bent over the child with a warm smile, his long almost black hair hung in sleek curtains on either side of his beautiful face. "Where does it hurt, little one?"  
  
Frodo moved uncomfortably under the intense scrutiny of the elf lord "My stomach! It has hurt, well since this morning after elevenses. I think I ate too much candy. But, but it does not get any better. It really hurts!! I-I have thrown up already, twice." he added, embarrassed.  
  
The elf lord, in the meantime, had been undoing the youngster's clothing.  
  
Exposing his stomach, Frodo shivered as the cool air hit his skin unexpectedly and Elrond pressed gently with pads of his long slender fingers in several areas. He paused and undid the buttons of Frodo's knickers and gently pulled them down around the child's hips. He continued his examination, his face, serious in its concentration. Frodo, dismayed by having his knickers down started to cry. It reminded him of a particularly bad afternoon when some hobbit children had bullied him into a corner and done the same thing, taunting him mercilessly about being an orphan and wearing hand-me-downs. And they had been his favorite knickers too.  
  
Elrond paused a moment and saw the child's distress. His voice full of warmth, he said, bringing a hand up to wipe away the tears, "I am almost done little one. Do not worry!"  
  
When he got to the lower right quadrant of his abdomen and pressed there, Frodo screamed and began to cry harder. The sharp pain was terrible!  
  
Elrond softly brushed the Frodo's hair off his clammy face. Turning to one of the chairs, he pulled off his folded cape and carefully tucked it around the diminutive form.  
  
" I have to make some preparations little Frodo." He lay his hand on the hobbit's forehead and Frodo found himself relaxing suddenly, and felt as if he was drifting into sleep.  
  
Elrond sighed and went to his chest of medical supplies that one of his companions had brought in. The hobbit's illness was easily explained.  
  
It was appendicitis and would need immediate surgery.  
  
Frodo stirred from his half sleep, when he felt cold air on his skin again. Gentle hands straightened his limbs. Frodo woke further when his head was lifted and he was given sweet, thick syrup to drink. Like all medicines, it tasted strange and he made a face at the flavor. Elrond smiled at the hobbits expression as he put the goblet aside. The elf lord carefully lifted the small one as one of the other elves, pulled the cape off the table and lay several more table clothes atop the one already there. Frodo shivered though he was held closely in the elf lord's arms against his chest.  
  
He was laid back down and Elrond's assistant took off all of Frodo's clothes being mindful of not jostling him. As he was being undressed, Elrond pulled out his satinwood box of surgical implements and selected the scalpel he needed. He also lay out bottles of antiseptic tinctures, bandages and suturing thread and needles.  
  
Frodo, slowly succumbing to the medication he had been given, was uncomfortable lying naked under the clinical scrutiny of the healer.  
  
As he lay there, he began to feel very strange and woolly-headed. He moved his head side-to-side trying to focus on the face of Elrond.  
  
"It is all right little one." Elrond caught Frodo's wandering eyes with his intense grey ones, bright as stars as he stilled the moving head between his slender healer's hands. " The syrup will make you sleep deeply and relax the muscles." He lay a hand again softly on where the pain was worst. He left his hand there for a minute, until Frodo realized he could not feel it, even though he could feel increasing pressure as the elf lord bore down testing for pain.  
  
With a sigh, Frodo succumbed to the concoction whose basis was syrup of poppy and his head rolled to the side, as he fell deeply asleep.  
  
Elrond placed his hand on his forehead once more, to seal him in dreamless slumber.  
  
The elf lord, wearing a long robe, split up the sides for riding, pulled off the outer jerkin to be more comfortable and stood eyeing his patient in dark rose colored trews and a long sleeved grey silk shirt whose sleeves he rolled up above his elbows.  
  
Looking at the elf standing near him with a handful of cloths to dab up the blood to make sure he was ready to assist, Elrond bent over Frodo and began.  
  
Making a sure deep incision through the abdominal wall in the lower right quadrant of the abdomen, Elrond moved to the side, as the assistant calmly laid absorbent cloths to catch the blood. Pulling aside the muscle wall he worked up carefully the end of the large intestine to the surface with its little bit of flesh that was the infected appendix, which he then sliced neatly off.  
  
The assistant took the offending piece of flesh and quickly went and threw it in the fire outside while Elrond took over removing and placing fresh cloths around the wound bleeding freely. Some he dipped into the body cavity to keep that free of blood as well. He also utilized one of his antiseptic tinctures and carefully bathed the small incision. When the assistant returned, he took over, allowing Elrond to thread his needle for suturing.  
  
He used a very small thread for sewing up the end of the large intestine and when he finished with that, he used a thicker thread to carefully sew up the abdominal incision, stitching neatly as he might, to leave Frodo as little a scar as possible.  
  
Once the blood was cleaned off, Elrond gently dabbed antiseptic tincture around the wound and soaked a pad, which he then placed over the stitches. With the help of his assistant, he bandaged the pad in place with several strips of clean linen. Before he put away his supplies, he cleaned and bandaged Frodo's scraped knee as well. When all was done and the signs of surgery cleaned up and put away, Elrond stood looking down at the sleeping hobbit. Laying a hand over the wound, he sent energy deep into the tissue to speed the healing.  
  
Checking Frodo's pulse and respiration and satisfied with their levels, he covered the child and went to wash up himself. 


	3. Return to Michel Delving

Finished, Lord Elrond went and got Bilbo who had been worriedly walking around the temporary campsite after being fetched by an elf who had discovered the distraught hobbit calling out for Frodo at the western edge of Michel Delving.  
  
As he came out of the tent, he strode over to the elder hobbit and smiled down at the frown on Bilbo's face. He bent and placed a hand on his old friend's shoulder. "All is well Bilbo. It was a simple procedure really and Frodo is sleeping deeply. The trial will come when he awakens and the stitches and incision make themselves known. Come, and see."  
  
He led Bilbo past the fire and into the pavilion. Bilbo hurried to his nephew's side. By the light of the candelabra, he could easily see his nephews peaceful face.  
  
"He'll be all right?" The hobbit queried the great elf lord anxiously.  
  
"Yes, I got to the appendix in plenty of time. He will probably sleep until late in the morning. I believe it will safe to return him to your inn at dawn, before the streets get too crowded and he might be jostled as we bring him into Michel Delving."  
  
"All right." Bilbo turned to Elrond and held out his hand. "Thank you so much my lord for saving my little Frodo." Elrond took Bilbo's hand in both of his and clasped it warmly. "Come, why don't you rest? You can stay here and keep an eye on him in the meantime."  
  
"Thank you, I shall." Elrond, checking Frodo one more time, went out to join his companions, leaving Bilbo with his nephew.  
  
Bilbo pulled one of the ornately carved camp chairs close to where Frodo lay on the table. He lay peacefully asleep under a blanket, his face softened by the candle's glow. Bilbo could not help but shiver a bit. It also looked like a bier to him, because Frodo was so deeply asleep and his face was pale like ivory.  
  
He picked up his nephew's hand and held it in both of his, watching the sleeping lad's face closely. He wanted to be right here in case Frodo stirred.  
  
An hour later, when the elf lord returned to the pavilion, he found the elder hobbit, with his head on the table next to Frodo, the small hobbits hand held tucked into his uncle's. Gently releasing them, Elrond picked Bilbo up and laid him on the thick rug, covering him with his cloak. Checking Frodo's vital signs, the elf lord then retired himself.  
  
The pale light of pre-dawn made the surrounding tree's shaggy heads stand out against the night sky. Earendil's star sank into the west with the moon and the elves rose to sing a glad song to the rising sun.  
  
Elrond, glancing at Bilbo who was still fast asleep, went over to his patient. He held his right hand a few inches above the sleeping hobbit child and softly spoke a spell, awakening Vilya on his finger. The air around Frodo was suddenly body temperature warm and glowing with a slight blue radiance. Smiling, Elrond pulled down the blanket and taking a small knife, slit the bandage and pulled it aside. The skin around the incision was clear of infection, and when the elf lord softly pressed around the stitches, the skin was not hot, nor too tight.  
  
Rewrapping the wound in fresh linen, he covered Frodo up and with a slight wave of his hand, dissipated the warm air.  
  
Kneeling by Bilbo, he shook his friend's shoulder, which woke the elder hobbit. He sat up rubbing his eyes and smiled at Elrond. Hopping up, he ran around the elf lord to the table and looked at Frodo.  
  
"He's still all right?"  
  
"Yes, Bilbo. He is fine. I have checked the incision and re-bandaged it. No infection. Young Frodo has slept quietly all night. I need to sort out some items from my supplies that you can take with you for his care. If you go out to the fire, breakfast awaits, albeit an Elvish one!"  
  
Bilbo taking one more look at Frodo, grinned at Elrond and went out to the fire to be greeted courteously by the elves there, who gave him miruvor and lembas.  
  
When Elrond had all prepared and Bilbo was temporarily sustained by the Elvish food, they set off. The elf lord, wrapped in his long grey cloak carried the sleeping child deep in its warm folds and walked quietly with Bilbo into the rising light, surrounded by birdsong.  
  
Elrond had been correct though, they did pass some farmers coming into town, who did a double take to see the tall hooded stranger and a hobbit together, but there were few others on the streets of Michel Delving.  
  
They reached the Hidden Haven Inn and Bilbo directed their steps to the stable yard of the hostelry so they could go quietly up the back stairs.  
  
Dilly, the upstairs maid, was the only one to see them, and she hastened to run ahead of Bilbo and Elrond to unlock the door. Standing in the doorway awestruck by the tall cloaked figure, she watched as Frodo was laid back in his bed and warmly covered up.  
  
"Is the wee lad all right sir?" Dilly asked, hands twisted into her apron. "Can I get you anything?" She stared at Elrond, who had flung aside his cloak as he settled Frodo, once again checking the incision. "A hot water bottle would be good right now. I would also like to keep a running supply of hot water here mistress, as well as whatever soft foods this establishment can provide."  
  
"We've got some nice baked custard today sir, ah my lord." Dilly bowed as she spoke. "And Mistress Gartner can make a wonderful chicken broth, nice and light."  
  
Elrond turned to the little hobbit maid. "Those will do perfectly." Elrond's glance then fell on Bilbo. "I shall be leaving several different teas and infusions Bilbo and I shall write out my instructions for you on Frodo's continuing care, all right?"  
  
Bilbo nodded, relieved that everything had gone so well, so far. But of course, Frodo had yet to wake up.  
  
"First though Bilbo, Frodo will have a bit of a woolly head when he awakens. You need to have some willow bark and chamomile tea ready straight away. He is likely to be a little fractious as well. If he is really miserable, increase the dosage. I do not want him pulling his stitches out. He must be kept quiet for a few days. The more he sleeps, the better for him. I am leaving you enough tincture for plenty of sleeping draughts."  
  
Bilbo nodded again and then turned to Dilly, who was still staring at Elrond, mouth agape at the elf lord's striking appearance.  
  
"Well you heard his lordship, some hot water if you please mistress Dilly!"  
  
"Aye! Right away sir, my lord." Dilly curtsied and ran out of the room. Wait til cook heard about this!  
  
Elrond went to the table and took the parchment, ink and quill Bilbo provided and wrote for sometime in his precise script.  
  
While he wrote, Bilbo went to check on Frodo. He stood at his side and carefully brushed his tousled hair off his forehead. His pale features began to warm up in the rising daylight coming in the open window.  
  
He knew that Frodo could not have been in better hands than Lord Elrond's, but still, he knew he would feel a lot better once Frodo was up and about.  
  
Elrond rejoined his friend at Frodo's bedside and put a hand on his shoulder. "He will probably sleep for another few hours, my friend. In the meantime, you can get together what you will need to care for the invalid. He will need entertaining Bilbo! He is young and resilient and will heal quickly. In a week or two at the very latest, Frodo will be the halfing lad you know and love."  
  
"I am glad you were here my lord. I thank you again." Bilbo spontaneously hugged the elf lord. Elrond smiled and hugged him back. "I am glad I could be of service Bilbo. Now I must resume my journey to the Grey Havens with my companions. If I can, perhaps I will visit with you on my return. I have left you precise instructions. Trust me Bilbo, all will be well."  
  
Bilbo nodded and watching the elf lord examine his nephew one last time, he took a deep breath and realized he felt better.  
  
In a few minutes, Elrond had left, leaving Bilbo alone with his sleeping nephew.  
  
Bilbo did as the elf lord instructed and made sure he had everything laid out for Frodo's awakening.  
  
It was just after elvenses when Frodo stirred. Bilbo had just finished tucking away a sizeable meal, because though the Elvish food sustained a body, it was not as toothsome as eggs, bacon, hashed browns and biscuits. 


	4. Frodo awakens

Frodo groaned as he slowly awoke, mouth as dry as sand and head as heavy as a boulder. He blearily opened his eyes and looked around confused. He was back in the room he shared with Uncle Bilbo at the inn! How had that happened? The last thing he could remember.were some Elves! Elves, yes..!  
  
He sat up with that and winced as he pulled at the stitches. He put a hand to the bandage and then remembered the elf lord's eyes and his kindly smile.but after that..He felt the bandage again. It was sort of tight feeling underneath it. Something to do with his stomach pain.  
  
"Frodo! Oh my, it is so good to see you awake! How do you feel!" Bilbo, turned from the table when he heard Frodo sit up. Rushing over to his side, he took the smaller hobbit's hand in his and smiled. "My dear boy, you gave me such a fright..."  
  
"But, but Bilbo.I heard you say I was "diseased" last night and you were going to return me to Brandy Hall!"  
  
"'Diseased"? Oh Frodo, I was taking about some chickens I was going to have taken to Bag End by Farmer Bastian! It turns out the hens do not lay good eggs!  
  
Bilbo leaned over and enveloped Frodo in a big hug. "Oh my sweet lad, I was so worried! I don't know what I would have done had you not had the good fortune to run into Lord Elrond! I would have never forgiven myself!"  
  
Frodo felt hot tears prickle his eyes as he returned Bilbo's hug. Oh, he was so lucky to have Uncle Bilbo!! If only he could stay with him forever and ever!  
  
Bilbo released him slowly and then turned to the teapot on the hob, which was steaming merrily. "Lord Elrond said to give you some willow bark tea straight away when you awoke, as your head would be fuzzy."  
  
"Yes, my head hurts!" Frodo looked up at his uncle worried. "Wha-what happened? Why do I have this bandage here?" Frodo looked down at it. "My tummy isn't broken is it? How will I eat?"  
  
"Now, now Frodo, your tummy is right where it is supposed to be. Lord Elrond, he is the Lord of Rivendell my boy and a great healer. He just had to do a minor bit of surgery, that's all. Everything is right as rain now. He says you'll be up and about in about oh, 10 days or so!"  
  
"I guess that means I won't be able to go to the Mathom Sale." Frodo slumped into his coverlet. "And I really wanted to find a copy of "Berley's Guide to Dragons and Other Fiercesome Beasts."  
  
"Well I will certainly keep an eye out for it when I go wandering!' Let me just get you that tea."  
  
Frodo slumped back into the pillows, moving in slight discomfort. The stitches itched and the incision though uninfected, began to ache deeply.  
  
Moaning, the little hobbit child felt tears prickle at the corner of his eyes. It really hurt now! And his head too!  
  
"Uncle Bilbo, I hurt!! Ooh my tummy!!"  
  
Instantly concerned, Bilbo rushed to his nephews side and offered him the willow bark and chamomile tea. But he could see immediately that he would have to use some of Lord Elrond's sleeping draught tincture. It would not do to have Frodo cause himself any further injury.  
  
Coming up to the miserable child, he held his head up with one hand and brought the warm glass of tea to his mouth getting him to drink the concoction in small sips until it was gone. Frodo did not fight him, even though the medicine was strong because he was so thirsty.  
  
Satisfied by Frodo's eagerness to finish the tea, Bilbo went and swiftly mixed a sleeping draught for Frodo. Poor little tyke, he was going to be miserable for quite sometime!  
  
Frodo turned his head toward the window and the brightening day, and slow tears ran down his face because he knew he would not be able to go and enjoy the colorful throngs of fair goers and all the wonders the many booths and itinerant sellers offered. The balloons! The toys! And oh, especially the books!  
  
He would not even think about the food and the sweets. More tears rolled down his face as he moved uncomfortably. He placed a hand on his bandaged side. Oh, if it only would stop aching! Why did this have to happen now, of all times! Who knew when he would ever have a chance to enjoy a fair like this!  
  
He could not help himself and Frodo began to cry in earnest.  
  
Finished with the tincture, Bilbo came back to his distraught nephew and put the cup down on the night stand and carefully gathered the little hobbit up in his arms and began to rock him back and forth slowly. "There, there my lad, do not fret so! Your Uncle Bilbo is here and will take care of you. Shh, little one. Drink one more thing for me Frodo lad, and I will see what I can do about getting you some hot broth. You need to keep up your strength if you are to get better soon!"  
  
Frodo nodded against Bilbo's soft velvet weskit and let the rocking lull him into calmness. When Bilbo carefully set him back, he again helped him drink the tincture, which he had put a little honey in. Frodo complied silently and drank it all. He smiled at his uncle as he placed the now empty tea cup aside. "I am glad you are with me Uncle Bilbo. If I had had a hurt tummy in Brandy Hall, nobody but Merry would probably have noticed!"  
  
"Shh now! That is not true, you know your auntie and uncle are very concerned about you. They would not let you lie there sick and all alone." Bilbo bent and kissed his nephew on the forehead. "Sleep now little one. Rest."  
  
And in a few minutes, the sleeping draught took affect, and Frodo closed his eyes.  
  
Bilbo sat back in the wooden chair and sighed deeply, bringing a hand to his forehead. My word! Dealing with this was going to be as hard as Lord Elrond had said!  
  
Glad the draught would keep Frodo asleep for quite some time, Bilbo decided he needed to go out and find Frodo some toys and books to entertain him through his convalescence. Having told Dilly the upstairs maid to keep an eye on Frodo while he went out, Bilbo joined the throngs attending the fair.  
  
Wandering towards the booths full of bright wooden toys, Bilbo bought several wooden puzzles, a chess set and a book of fairy tales.  
  
Hurrying back to the Inn, Bilbo stopped and talked to the head cook , asking that some chicken broth be brought up in an hour or so and custard as well.  
  
Letting himself in, it was with relief that Bilbo saw his nephew was still asleep. Carefully arranging his packages on the bureau, he went and placed a hand on Frodo's forehead. It was only slightly warm, and Frodo was sleeping comfortably.  
  
Bilbo glanced over at the elegant stoppered bottle that held the sleeping draught. He hoped there would be enough to last through Frodo's convalescence. He went through the supplies again left by the elf lord and was content to see there was enough pain relieving tea as well. Just to be on the safe side, Bilbo brewed the tea and left it on the table to cool. He then went back downstairs to talk to the cook about his meals and to answer a note form an old book dealer who had come to the Inn to see him with his latest acquisitions.  
  
Later as Bilbo wrote in his journal about the day's events, he heard his nephew stir. Moaning, Frodo, called out "Uncle Bilbo? My tummy really hurts!"  
  
Bilbo sprang up from the small desk by the window and rushed over to his nephew's side. 'Oh, Frodo my lad, it's going to hurt for awhile I am afraid." Bilbo brushed his hand across the child's forehead and kissed him. Going over to the cheery fire, he got the waiting tea with the pain relieving herbs in it.  
  
Adding a generous dollop of honey, Bilbo brought over the mug and sitting on the bed, but an arm around the little one and helped him drink the tea.  
  
But Frodo, after a few sips, grimaced and feebly pushed the tea away. "No more Uncle! It tastes yucky!"  
  
"But Lord Elrond left it for you special lad. It will make the pain go away and you want that don't you?"  
  
Frodo glanced up at his uncle, his eyes full of tears. "But-but it tastes so bad!"  
  
"I'll go add more honey then, shall I?"  
  
Bilbo went back to the bureau and added another spoonful and stirring it, brought it back, helping the hobbit child again.  
  
Frodo sipped more, but still refused to drink further after a few swallows.  
  
Bilbo, sighing, left the mug to the side and then cuddled his nephew to him. He had not had a lot of practice dealing with the sickness. And that this traumatic event should be his first his first exposure to a sick and injured hobbit child! He began to sing a song he remembered from his own childhood, rocking Frodo gently. He glanced down, and saw his nephew's eyes were half-lidded and he smiled. Good, the tea was working!  
  
He got up carefully to set Frodo back. The little one reached out a small hand and whimpered "Don't go Uncle, I loved that song! My ma-mamma used to sing that to me." His eyes filled with tears at the memory and Frodo turned his face into the soft velveteen weskit his uncle wore and Bilbo, carefully rubbing his back, felt his own eyes getting moist. Ahh, poor Primula and Drogo!  
  
He looked down at the mass of dark shiny curls tucked under his chin. Poor lad, to be so bereft and lost in the sea of his Brandybuck cousins. Wasn't much of a life for such a sensitive lad.  
  
The two hobbits, wrapped in their sad thoughts, took comfort from the other.  
  
At last, Bilbo stirred himself and smiled, wiping his eyes. Young Frodo had fallen asleep at last. Getting up off the mattress, he rang the room service bell.  
  
The next hurdle to be gotten over was getting the young one to eat!  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
In a few minutes Dilly knocked on the door and came in, hands wrapped in her apron. "What can I do for you Mr. Baggins?" she peered around his comfortable girth. "How's the wee lad then?" "He is sleeping, thankfully. Could you bring up some chicken broth for him. And some dry toast and a soft boiled egg?" "Certainly sir. Would you be wishing anything for yourself?' "Ohh, just a pot of tea.and some of those excellent cakes I had yesterday, and---" "I'm afraid they're all gone sir, but cook made some nice apple jam tarts." "Splendid! Those will do nicely. And perhaps some stuffed mushrooms?" "Of course. Anything else?" "No, that will be all." Bobbing a curtsy, the hobbit lass left quickly and closed the door quietly behind her. Once the food was brought out and laid out on the table, Bilbo looked thoughtfully at the chicken broth, steaming on the table and then glanced over at Frodo who was still asleep. Perhaps it would keep better closer to the fire. He brought the bowl over and put it near the coals and then surveyed the rest of the food. The custard would probably keep closer to the window as it had turned into a coolish day, with the likelihood of rain later. Moving the custard to the windowsill, Bilbo stepped back and looked at the rest of the food. Well that should do. He sat down and poured himself a cup of tea and popped a stuffed mushroom into his mouth. 


	5. complications

Little Frodo awoke just as the sun was setting and the rain was beginning.  
  
Bilbo had just closed the shutters in the room and was returning to his journal, when he heard the little one moan.  
  
Smiling he went over to his nephew' side and put a fond hand on his forehead. "Frodo my lad! Have you slept well? How are you feeling?"  
  
Frodo's lower lip quivered and he looked at his uncle frowning. "My tummy still hurts. And I am very thirsty."  
  
"Excellent! No I don't mean about your tummy, I mean about being thirsty!! I shall get you some water, shall I? Would you like some chicken broth too?"  
  
Frodo nodded quietly. Actually his tummy was gurgling and sounded empty. "Uncle, may I have some candy?"  
  
That stopped Bilbo in his tracks momentarily. And then a big smile crossed his face. Well, then, Frodo must be feeling much better if he was asking about candy!  
  
"Well first I think you need some nice warm soup, my lad. I don't recall Lord Elrond saying anything about candy, but perhaps, when you've eaten a little soup and maybe some nice apple jelly and cream, you may have a sweet."  
  
Frodo sat up and was actually smiling at his uncle when he brought over the soup. Drinking the small cup of broth quickly, Frodo looked at his uncle expectantly.  
  
"Well, good job Frodo, you quite ate up all the soup. Do you feel like some apple jelly?"  
  
"Yes uncle. Even though my tummy still aches it is hungry."  
  
"Very good! Apple jelly and cream it is!"  
  
And in minutes, that too had disappeared. Bilbo was delighted. Frodo must definitely be on the mend! He looked at the hobbit child fondly and saw that his nephew looked more bright-eyed and alert.  
  
"Can I have the candy now Uncle Bilbo?"  
  
"Well, I think you may have a piece." He went over and brought over one horehound drop and Frodo grinning popped it in his mouth.  
  
"Thang you Unle Bimbol!" He said with his mouth full. Bilbo went and cleaned up and then looked at the toys and books he had bought that day for his nephew.  
  
"Perhaps you'd like a book to read my boy? I found a wonderful book of fairy tales and legends. I think there are dragons in it."  
  
Frodo's blue eyes lit up at that. "Oh yes! May I see please?"  
  
Bilbo pulled the book out of the wrapped packages he'd purchased and brought it over to his curious nephew. Frodo took it with eyes shining. It was not Berley's Book of Dragons...but it would do.  
  
Uncle and nephew spent a pleasant evening in quiet study.  
  
Finally, the lamps had been lit and Bilbo looked up from his journal entry. The bedside light shone on his now sleeping nephew's face casting a warm glow across it.  
  
The elder hobbit went up to his sleeping nephew and gently brushed his riot of dark curls aside and then bent and kissed him. Taking the book of fairy tales, which had slipped out of the youngster's hands, he put it aside. Carefully adjusting the blanket, Bilbo turned down the lamp.  
  
Looking around the room, he stretched and yawned himself. What a day! It was time for him to retire as well. Yawning again, Bilbo prepared for bed, and with a sigh of relief, settled down into the coverlets, listening to the soothing sound of the rain tapping on the wooden shutters.  
  
Four days went by in quiet succession. Bilbo would make occasional forays out into the festival crowds and bring back Frodo some little treat: a top, a puzzle, another book. Bilbo would always slip Dilly an extra coin for her taking the time to watch Frodo.  
  
And Frodo's spirits rose as the incision began to hurt less.  
  
One afternoon, while Bilbo was out, Dilly even took the young hobbit lad out to the stables to see a brand new foal born to one of the inn's carthorses. Frodo was delighted with the little baby, especially the soft nose of the colt who came to greet the sick child with a whinny and nuzzle.  
  
This cheered Frodo up so much, he wanted to get down and feed the chicks that were scrambling under foot, so Dilly set him down and let him pick up one of the soft baby birds and hug it.  
  
But not wanting the lad to get a chill, Dilly soon took the protesting Frodo back to his room and tucked him up and fed him some broth and a poached egg.  
  
Frodo didn't mind going back to the inn, even though he had not been able to tempt the mare with a bit of old apple he'd found on the ground. He was getting a bit cold and the fire in the room would feel good. He yawned as Dilly picked him up with a laugh.  
  
"Perhaps my lad needs a nap, eh?"  
  
"No," Frodo rubbed his eyes. "I do not need a nap! I am a big hobbit!"  
  
When Dilly had turned to speak to the stable hand Toby, Frodo had hastily wiped his hands on the bandage under his nightshirt because he knew if the upstairs maid saw his dirty hands, he would catch it.  
  
In a few minutes, Dilly and Frodo returned to the room and she lay him in his bed and covered him up. Humming, she then went about straightening the room. As Frodo lay there half-asleep, he noticed the collection of beautiful bottles and vials left behind by Lord Elrond. They were usually lost amongst the mugs and pitchers and pots over on the bureau, but because Dilly had been cleaning, she had put them all together in a group on the edge of the bureau.  
  
They were so beautiful. He had never seen bottles like them before. They sparkled in the candlelight with different colors.  
  
"Frodo lad." Dilly turned to him with a smile. "I am just going to take the dishes down to the kitchen and bring up some fresh tea water and see if I can't find you a treat! You be a good lad and do not get into any trouble!"  
  
Frodo sat up with a smile. "Oh yes! A treat would be very nice! Thank you Dilly! I won't be any trouble either!"  
  
Laughing, the maid left.  
  
Frodo waited a minute and then carefully got out of bed. Oh, those bottles were so pretty! He could not help himself, and he picked up each one and looked at the Elvish work in wonder, enjoying the way the colors changed as he turned them slowly.  
  
The last one, a beautiful deep blue with green and red highlights, really entranced Frodo. He kept turning it back and forth, wondering if his uncle would let him keep it when it was empty.  
  
Hearing steps outside the door, he quickly put the vial back on the bureau top, but doing it without watching, he knocked the bottle against the edge and it fell out of his hand and shattered on the floor!  
  
Frodo stood there, mouth agape, and then, relieved when the steps outside the door went past the room, he rummaged in a bureau drawer and pulled out one of his uncle's large handkerchief's. He painstakingly picked up the beautiful bits of glass and threw them reluctantly into the hot fire and mopped up the spilled tincture. Biting his lip, he then winced as he threw his uncle's handkerchief into the fire too and watched it go up in a blaze.  
  
Carefully arranging the deep rag rug over the spill, Frodo then ran to his bed and climbed in. He made a face as he pulled the stitches in his haste to get under the covers.  
  
With a sigh, he lay back against the pillows and closed his eyes. He was asleep before Dilly returned.  
  
Bilbo was encouraged by Frodo's progress and was beginning to hope, with Frodo on the mend, that he might actually be able to enjoy the last days of the festival.  
  
It was late at night on the fifth day, and Frodo awoke with a thin wail of pain. Ohh, his tummy really hurt!! He put a hand to the bandage and it felt warm beneath his fingers. 'Uncle Bilbo? Uncle Bilbo? My tummy really hurts again!"  
  
The elder hobbit rolled over in his sleep, the cry of pain only slowly sinking in. Then he sat up suddenly as he heard his nephew whimpering. Jumping out of bed, he said, "I am coming Frodo lad." He stumbled in the dark and got the tinder and flint on the mantelpiece and lighted a single candle, which he brought over to his nephew's bedside. By the flickering of the light, Bilbo saw that his nephew's face was covered by a thin sheen of sweat, some of his curls plastered to his forehead.  
  
Putting the candle down at Frodo's bedside, the hobbit went back over to get Elrond's sleeping draught and quickly pouring a bit of apple juice in a mug, he put in a big spoonful and stirred it quickly.  
  
"Here you go Frodo. This will settle your tummy all well and good."  
  
Frodo drank the cordial, making a face as he finished half of it.  
  
"No more Uncle Bilbo. No more." He looked up at his uncle and gave him a tremulous smile. "My tummy stopped hurting."  
  
"All right then. One more swallow for your Uncle Bilbo."  
  
Frodo grimaced and did as his uncle requested, but then pushed the mug away. "No more!"  
  
"I think that should be enough." Bilbo said to himself as he put the mug aside and then went to the bureau and poured water in the washbasin, soaking a small towel. Wringing it out thoroughly, he brought it back to the hobbit child and gently wiped his sweating face and around his neck.  
  
Frodo yawned at his uncle and said sleepily, "Thank you Uncle Bilbo. I am so glad you are here and do not think I am diseased."  
  
Bilbo put his arms around his tiny nephew and hugged him carefully. "Of course not my little one!" He frowned slightly at the warmth he could feel through the child's nightshirt.  
  
Perhaps tomorrow, if the fever did not go down, he would call in one of the healers here in Michel Delving. Just to be sure.  
  
Looking at his nephew, he saw his eyes glazing over in sleep. Kissing him one more time, Bilbo lay him back and adjusting the coverlet, returned to bed himself.  
  
  
  
The next morning, though Frodo had gotten some sleep, he was restless with pain and would eat very little.  
  
Getting Dilly to come sit with Frodo, Bilbo went and found a healer, a Mr. Thomas Dobbins and persuaded him to come see his ailing nephew that afternoon.  
  
A friendly, kind hobbit, Mr. Dobbins came into the room, carrying his medical bag and smiling at the wan child, as Dilly curtsied and left. As Bilbo saw her out she said in a low voice, "He's a nice one he is Mr. Bilbo. He'll see your Frodo lad all right and tight."  
  
Bilbo smiled and thanked her for her care.  
  
Turning to the hobbit healer, who had set his bag on the floor beside him as he examined Frodo, he asked, "Can I get you anything Mr. Dobbins?"  
  
"Not at the moment Mr. Baggins, but thank you."  
  
"Now Frodo, I am going to cut the bandage off, so I can better see what the matter is."  
  
Frodo said uncertainly as he looked at the strange hobbit. "No, no don't touch my tummy!! The Elf already cut my tummy! No more cutting!!'  
  
"Shh, little one. I am just cutting the bandage, I do not need to cut your tummy."  
  
Bilbo, hearing Frodo's cries, came over and soothed the child as Mr. Dobbins quickly cut through the bandages and with Bilbo's help, unwrapped them from around the tiny form.  
  
It was obvious once the bandages came off, that an infection had set in, and the flesh around the incision was red and hot to the touch.  
  
"Well, I see what we must do now Master Baggins." The healer turned to his medical bag and pulled out several vials and bottles as well as clean linen.  
  
Bilbo sighing unhappily looked to his nephew's reaction. The little one's face crumpled up when he saw both of the older hobbit's serious expressions. He did not like all this handling or the things Mr. Dobbins was pulling out of his big black bag.  
  
"What's wrong Uncle Bilbo? Why is my-my 'cision so hot! And it hurts!"  
  
"Well, it looks like you might have a bit of infection Frodo lad. Perhaps you got it when you and Dilly went out to the stables?"  
  
"Did you handle any animals Frodo?" Mr. Dobbins ask with a tip of his head. "Or play in the dirt?"  
  
"I petted the baby horse and picked up a baby chick. I found a bit of apple on the ground which I tried to give to the mama horse, but it was too mushy and squashed."  
  
"Hm. Where did you wipe your hands?"  
  
"I-I don't remember." Frodo bit his lip, remembering just where he HAD wiped his hands.  
  
Mr. Dobbins nodded his head. Patting the anxious child on the arm, "I shall make you a glass of medicine in a moment Frodo. I need to talk to your Uncle Bilbo, all right?"  
  
Frodo pouted at the healer and crossed his arms over his chest and said nothing. Not more medicine!  
  
Mr. Dobbins pulled the elder hobbit over towards the fire and said in a quiet voice. "The infection is nasty Mr. Baggins. I can give him medicine to reduce the fever. I have only a bit of salve that may help with the actual incision. This elf you say who did the surgery and left you medicines.did he leave nothing behind for infection? "  
  
Bilbo brightened at that and went over to the selection of medicines left by the Elf lord. "Yes of course Mr. Dobbins, I am certain he left something for just such an occurrence." Bilbo picked up Lord Elrond's list and perusing it, compared the instructions left to the bottles on the bureau. The one left for possible infection was not there. Surely the Elf lord would not have forgotten?  
  
Frodo watched the hobbit looking through the bottles and clasped his hands before him, biting his lip. Oho, it looked as if his uncle was looking for that beautiful blue bottle he had broken!  
  
His lip quivered when he saw the worry on his uncle's face as he turned to look at Frodo for just a moment.  
  
"I-I.um.Oh Uncle Bilbo!" Frodo started to cry. "I broke the pretty blue bottle yesterday morning! I am so sorry!! I did not mean to! It was so beautiful and I tried to put it back but, but I dropped it! I am sorry!  
  
Bilbo went to his nephew's side and hugged him quickly. "I know you did not mean to Frodo lad, but Mr. Dobbins does not have a lot of medicine right now to take care of your incision." He looked over at the healer.  
  
"Well Mister Baggins, I can go ask Mistress Barnstaple is she has any to spare."  
  
"Thank you Mister Dobbins!" Bilbo helped the healer on with his coat and led him to the door. "I hope Mistress Barnstaple can help!"  
  
In moments, the healer had left and Bilbo, more worried than he wanted Frodo to know, went to make some tea.  
  
If Mistress Barnstaple did NOT have anything for an infection, Frodo's life could be in danger! 


	6. a set back

The little hobbit grew more uncomfortable as they awaited the return of Mister Dobbins.  
  
Bilbo wrung his hands as he listened to the moans of his little nephew, finally, he went and soaked a hand towel in the basin on the bureau and brought it over to Frodo. Tenderly wiping the feverish hobbit child down, he did his best to cool him.  
  
Putting an extra strong dose of the painkiller into a sweetened cup of tea, Bilbo brought it over to the distraught hobbit child.  
  
"Here Frodo my lad, drink this, this will help with the your sore tummy."  
  
Frodo's pain filled eyes fell on his Uncle Bilbo whose anxious face smiling down at him made him burst into tears.  
  
"Oh Uncle Bilbo! I am sorry my tummy is not behaving! I am really a good boy! Really! I don't mean to be so much trouble." And he took the mug of tea and drank it all down.  
  
"There, there Frodo. You are behaving just fine. And your tummy, well, your tummy is just a bit infected. And if Mister Dobbins finds Mistress Barnstaple and the medicine she has, well everything will be fine again!"  
  
But going through the litany of what ifs, Bilbo realized that again, things could go very awry at this point.  
  
The pain killer thankfully helped Frodo settle into an uneasy dose.  
  
Bilbo was just bathing the child when a discreet knock marked the return of Mister Dobbins.  
  
His face was serious as he let himself in quietly.  
  
"I am afraid I have both sorts of news, Mister Baggins. Mistress Barnstaple did have some medicine for infection, but she can only spare a little as the Applewood children have the scarlet spots and her supplies have been sorely tried as well. Let us see if we can't get the little fellow to take what I have here."  
  
Bilbo grasped the healer's hand and nodded grim faced. "All right then. We get little Frodo to take this dose. What then, shall we do for later?"  
  
"Plenty of fluids, Mister Baggins, and tepid baths to lower his temperature as best we can. And hope the little lad is strong enough to fight this off himself. Has he normally been healthy?"  
  
"I think so, but I do not know for sure Mister Dobbins. You see he usually lives with his cousins. He is here with me just for a visit." Bilbo sat on the chair next to the fever-hot face of his nephew. "This trip to Michel Delving was supposed to be a nice treat for him. A change of scenery, and- and---" Bilbo covered his face with his hands and sobbed silently for a moment.  
  
Mister Dobbins put a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Well, we shall do all we can Mister Baggins. All we can." Patting the distraught hobbit, Mister Dobbins then went to the bureau and found a clean glass and carefully poured in the small vial of medicine given to him by Mistress Barnstaple. There was barely a quarter inch. Smiling grimly, the healer then added the last of the apple juice and stirred it a few times.  
  
"Young Frodo will probably not like the taste of this, even with the apple juice. But he must drink all of it."  
  
Nodding, Bilbo reluctantly went to his nephew side and woke him.  
  
Frodo, his face unfocused by sleep and his eyes dull with fever peered at his uncle. "My eyes are not working well Uncle Bilbo." He rubbed them vigorously. "I cannot see well."  
  
The healer and Bilbo exchanged looks.  
  
Bilbo said, with a slight hitch in his voice, "Fro-frodo my lad. Here, I have got some nice new medicine for you. It will help your sore tummy."  
  
Frodo, fretful, turned his head away. "No, no Uncle Bilbo. No my throat is too sore."  
  
"All the more reason for you to drink this lad." The news of the sore throat alarmed both Mister Dobbins and Bilbo who knew any complications at this point were not good.  
  
Bilbo brought the cup to Frodo's small mouth, but the hobbit child tightened his lips and shook his head.  
  
Mister Dobbins, having dealt with stubborn children a little more frequently, came over with a big smile and taking the cup from the elder hobbit, sat on the edge of Frodo's bed and smiled as friendly as he could.  
  
"Frodo, I know your throat is sore. All dry and scratchy, like you've swallowed a lot of sand, isn't it?"  
  
Frodo nodded slowly. "It hurts to talk," he added.  
  
Nodding, the healer got more comfortable. "Oh I know exactly what you mean Frodo. I had a throat like that once. Nasty scratchy thing it was too. And I didn't want to take the medicine the healer had for me either." Master Dobbins looked down and shook his head slowly, falling silent.  
  
Finally Frodo asked, "Wha-what happened?"  
  
"I lost my voice I am afraid."  
  
Mister Dobbins went quiet again, staring at the glass he held.  
  
"How did-how did you find it again?"  
  
"Well, I spent many days in bed, unable to talk or eat or have sweets. And I could not tell my mama what I wanted nor even complain about my suffering until one evening, when I was very hungry and thirsty, she came in with the glass of medicine and asked me to try again."  
  
"Did you?"  
  
"I did, and I found my voice again, after I drank the medicine. And the funny thing was, I actually got much better and soon, in a couple of days, I was able to get out of bed and sit in the parlor."  
  
Frodo was silent at this. Finally he weakly touched the healer's hands holding the glass.  
  
"All right I guess. I will drink it. I would not like it if I was not able to ask for sweets."  
  
"As I did not either. Good lad!"  
  
Mister Dobbins carefully helped the child drink down the medicine, Bilbo watching in relief.  
  
The healer rose with a sigh taking the empty glass back to the bureau with a meaningful look at the elder hobbit, who smiled gratefully in return.  
  
Frodo lay there watching the other two and his eyes kept going soft as if he was looking through thin cloth. His head whirled every time he moved it. Even a little. The child rolled over and put a small hand to the hot flesh of his stomach and tears leaked out from his closed eyes. He was never going to get better. Even if he did have his voice back. His tummy was just one big pain, as if all the Bolger boys had punched him all at once.  
  
Groaning he rolled over again and then, rolled back over. He could not get comfortable. But he kept silent. If he said anything, all he would get was more medicine. And though he was glad his voice had not been lost, he was still miserable.  
  
He put his hand over his face and burrowed into the pillow.  
  
Bilbo and the healer, after conferring, came up to Frodo's side and the healer lay a hand on the hobbit child's forehead.  
  
"It is still early to tell Mister Baggins. We don't we both have a little supper and come back and see how the little one fares?"  
  
Bilbo frowned slightly at the healer. "I just feel I should stay with Frodo. Let us order supper here."  
  
"All right."  
  
Bilbo went and rang the bell rope for Dilly and when she appeared he ordered the meal of the day, a rich coney stew and dumplings, stewed greens with raspberries, fried potatoes and a couple of pints of the deep brown ale.  
  
For little Frodo, though Bilbo did not have much hope that he would eat, he ordered beef broth with toast and another pitcher of icy cold apple juice.  
  
Frodo spent most of the evening in and out of delirium and Bilbo and the healer did everything they could to keep the hobbit child as comfortable as possible: cooling baths and lots of fluids. Fluids that unfortunately Frodo fought them on.  
  
The two adults heard the last call bell from the tavern and the healer rose slowly from his seat. He went over to the now sleeping child and softly brushed his damp hair off his forehead and then looked at the exhausted Bilbo.  
  
"I think he will sleep for awhile now Bilbo. Why don't you get some sleep yourself. I am going home to the missus. You know where to find me if anything changes."  
  
"All right. Thank you Thomas. I appreciate all your concern and help today."  
  
"My pleasure." The healer ran a hand through Frodo's curls one more time and then turned, adjusting his coat, picked up his medical bag and left, softly closing the door.  
  
Bilbo stared at the flushed face of his little nephew and bit his lip in consternation. Oh poor little mite! What were they going to do for the next few days while they hovered, waiting and watching to see if Frodo could indeed recover on his own?"  
  
Bilbo sank down by the youngster's bedside and put his arms around the small hot form.  
  
"Oh my poor lad. Get better!" 


	7. remedies

The next morning, Bilbo went over to Frodo who was thankfully asleep but still warm to the touch.  
  
Sighing in consternation, the elder hobbit went and got more wet cloths and gently taking the nightshirt off, carefully bathed the child trying to lower his temperature. Leery of the infected stitches, Bilbo felt a full immersion bath was out of the question.  
  
Mixing the painkiller in apple juice again, the hobbit left it aside for when Frodo would awaken. As he saw to his own breakfast, Bilbo decided to talk to Mistress Barnstaple, just to get another opinion. Perhaps she knew of some treatment Thomas Dobbins did not.  
  
"Uncle Bilbo," a groggy, hoarse voice called out from the bed, "I am so thirsty."  
  
"Of course my lad, of course." Bilbo brought Frodo the apple juice and held his head up while he eagerly, for once, drank it down.  
  
"Do you want anything else? A bit of custard perhaps? "A little." Bilbo brought over the small ramekin of custard. Wincing at Frodo's cry of pain as he adjusted the child into more of a sitting position, he sat on the bed and dipped the spoon into the custard.  
  
But luckily little Frodo was indeed hungry and he ate half the serving. After the last mouthful, Frodo yawned and looked at his Uncle Bilbo with his fever bright eyes. "That is all I can eat." "All right my lad. I am going to go visit with Mistress Barnstaple and see if I cannot get some more medicine for you."  
  
Frodo nodded slowly. "Dilly will come in and sit with you will I am gone. And maybe I can find an ice for you."  
  
"An-an ice Uncle? But it is not winter."  
  
"No, it is not!" Bilbo actually laughed. "No it is crushed ice from deep in someone's root cellar and they pour sweet syrup over it. It is quite a treat. You'll like it."  
  
"All right. Maybe ice would feel good on my tummy too." "Yes, perhaps. Let me go Dilly."  
  
The hobbit child smiled weakly as Bilbo patted his hand and then went to fetch the upstairs maid.  
  
Frodo felt himself drift off. As his eyes closed his thoughts became very disordered. Images of his cousins and Brandy Hall became mixed with images of the Hidden Haven and its corridors. And then there were chickens, missing limbs and feathers and his uncle's face laughing nastily.  
  
Frodo whimpered in his sleep, brushing at his face.  
  
No, no his uncle Bilbo loved him! He'd said so! He didn't think he was funny. And then it was dark all around him, filled with unusual sounds and laughing and chickens clucking.  
  
And then faintly, singing. Sweet singing. It was the elves! Frodo listened harder to the singing. And the edges of the dark went lighter and the singing swelled in his mind until that was all there was. Then a gentle face with a pair of dark grey eyes filled his vision.  
  
And the dark went away until there was only light and the very faint sound of singing.  
  
Opening his eyes slowly, he found Dilly smiling down at him.  
  
Brushing his hair back, she said quietly, "Hullo little Frodo, how's my boy?"  
  
"Are the elves here? I heard them singing..."  
  
"No sweetheart, the elves are long gone. They say they go to the sea, beyond the towers to the west." She brushed his hair again. "No, we won't see those Elves again, more's the pity."  
  
Rising, she went about cleaning up the room. But Bilbo was a tidy soul and so there wasn't much to do.  
  
Finished she stood in the center of the room and then looked at the child who was watching her with a slight smile. The wee one was so hot. What did her Mam do when one of her brothers or sisters had a fever?  
  
A cool bath! That's just what this hobbit child needed! Feeling bold, she rang the room service bell and when Marella showed up she said, "I know its bit much for me to be ringing the bell Marella, but I think what might help this poor babe is a cool bath. Don't your momma do that when one of yours gets hot with a fever?  
  
"Yes, she does at that. Good idea Dilly. I'll get the lads to bring up a ladies tub. It will be the smallest thing we have for him."  
  
"Thanks Marella. I just know that will help."  
  
While waiting for the water, Dilly went to Frodo and said, "I have an idea on how to make you a little less hot Frodo boy. How about a nice cooling bath?"  
  
"A cold bath? Will there be ice in it?"  
  
"No silly, no ice, just nice cool water."  
  
"Well Uncle Bilbo said he'd get me an ice."  
  
"Oh one of those. That's to eat. Come on, here's some more juice. This will help you cool off too. Mam always says lots of drinks to help cool a fever. Tho' a course Pa takes that to mean a mite too many ales!"  
  
Dilly chuckled as she helped Frodo drink down a half a cup of the fresh pressed apple juice the inn was famous for.  
  
The two didn't have to wait long until the water was brought up by a couple of the stable hands.  
  
One of whom chucked Dilly under the chin as he left. Frodo noticed this and smiled. "He likes you, doesn't he?"  
  
"Perhaps a bit. But he has to wait till he's head stable hand before he gets the likes of me. But that won't be long, seeing how Mr. Thrim is about to be retiring."  
  
Dilly turned to the little hobbit and picking him up gently, brought him over to the tub. She sat the apprehensive child in the water without taking his nightshirt off, to avoid a chill.  
  
Frodo squirmed in her arms, "No-no it's too cold! Ow!" And he started shivering. But Dilly held him in the water a bit longer, gently putting a hand to where the infected incision was and making sure the cool water washed over it.  
  
Once the first chill was over, Frodo actually relaxed some. Dilly was right, his skin didn't feel so hot. He let himself slip lower into the tub enjoying the momentary cessation of heat.  
  
"There now, that's not so bad is it Frodo lad?"  
  
"No-no. My tummy doesn't feel so hot. Could I have more juice?"  
  
"Sure laddie-o!" And Dilly went and got him a glass, which he drank down. She ruffled his hair and then went to turn over the towel that she was heating up to wrap him in.  
  
Frodo, actually feeling cooler that he had in sometime, closed his eyes once more. He really wanted to hear the elves sing again.  
  
But he wasn't able to keep his eyes closed too long, when Dilly lifted him out of the tub and stood him on his feet in front of the fire. Shivering he let the maid take off his wet night shirt and put a clean one on. Then she wrapped him in the heated towel and carried him back to the bed. Leaving him in the towel, she propped him up in the bed and pulled the quilt up.  
  
"I think your lovely curls need a brushing."  
  
Frodo's eyes watered up and a sob hiccupped out of him, which hurt his throat.  
  
"Whatever is the matter sweetie?"  
  
"My-my mama used to brush my hair out after my bath in the parlor. I miss my mama and da."  
  
"Dead are they?" Dilly came and sat on the edge of the bed.  
  
"Drownded. In the Brandywined."  
  
"I am so sorry! Poor lamb! Are you feeling any better? Do you think you can eat some of this broth your uncle's been keep warm here?"  
  
"A-a little, I think." Frodo looked up at her from under his thatch of hair.  
  
"A little's all you need to do." Dilly brought the broth and crumbled up the toast and then helped the child drink it down. She was delighted to see he drank about half, and ate all the soft toast.  
  
She then brought over a hairbrush she found on the bureau and gently brushed the riot of dark curls into some kind of order.  
  
As she finished, she saw that little Frodo had fallen asleep. She bent over and kissed his brow and carefully got up from behind him, where she'd been sitting and gently laid the hobbit back. Running her hand one more time through the now smooth curls, she sat by the fire and picked up the mending she had brought.  
  
Not an hour later. Bilbo came in quietly, and peeped around the door. His smile broadened as he saw the peacefully asleep child and the quiet maid by the fire. He took his carefully hoarded ice and slipped it into a clean bowl.  
  
  
  
"All well then Dilly?"  
  
  
  
"Yes sir Mr. Bilbo. Right and tight as it can be. I gave the little lad a cooling bath, some of the broth and a good hair brushing. He's been asleep for sometime now, with nary a peep out of him.  
  
  
  
"A bath? Is that a good idea with his incision all infected?"  
  
  
  
"Sure now, it was fine. The wee lad enjoyed it some too."  
  
  
  
Bilbo nodded and sighed, grateful for the help of the kind upstairs maid. He gave her two coins as she left and the maid frowned at him. "Now Mr. Bilbo sir, this is a bit too much."  
  
  
  
"I know you have family to help Dilly. And you have most certainly helped with mine!"  
  
  
  
"All right then, I won't deny it. But you don't hesitate to call again then." She bobbed a curtsy and left.  
  
  
  
"Both Frodo and I are very fond of you!"  
  
  
  
Smiling she closed the door softly.  
  
  
  
Bilbo turned to the little hobbit child and went up to his beds side. Putting a hand to his face and throat, he frowned at their heat. Well perhaps Mistress Barnstaple was correct and a "counter irritant" would work.  
  
  
  
Going back to the small twists of paper he'd brought back from the herbalist, he poured some hot water into a bowl and steep the dogsbane and arnica together.  
  
  
  
Going back to Frodo, he gently pulled the quilt down and looked closely at the incision the elf lord had made. Holding the candle closer, Bilbo pressed softly on the hot flesh and grimaced at the heat he could feel. Poor little child!  
  
  
  
Putting the candle on the nightstand, Bilbo went and got a damp cloth and once more carefully bathed the nasty suture site. Tears came to the hobbit's eyes as he did his best to cool the skin. Oh, the counter irritant MUST work!  
  
  
  
Finished, Bilbo went back and put the cloth on the edge of the bowl. Going over to the bowl of steaming herbs, he stirred it briefly with a finger and winced at the tingling he could feel.  
  
  
  
Getting a clean cloth, he dipped it into the mixture and soaked it well and then wrung it out.  
  
  
  
Taking a deep breath, Bilbo, lay the cloth near the incision and pressed slightly.  
  
  
  
It did not take long for the hobbit to find out if it worked, for only a few minutes later, Frodo opened his eyes and began to cry. "Uncle, Uncle!" He started coughing, "Ow!! My tummy burns! My tummy burns!" And then he could say no more as coughing overtook him.  
  
  
  
Bilbo, biting his lip, continued to hold the cloth in place mentally timing himself. Finally lifting it, he saw the blister that was supposed to arise from such an application and hoped this would indeed speed the cooling of the inflammation.  
  
  
  
Frodo, coughing, his throat raw looked at his uncle terrified. Uncle Bilbo had made his tummy hurt on purpose!  
  
  
  
"Why di-did you do that? Have I been a bad boy?" he coughed again which pulled at his stitches. "I did not mean for my tummy to get worse!"  
  
  
  
"There, there Frodo lad. No, no you are not a bad boy. I, this was a new treatment I got from Mistress Barnstaple who claims it will work very well to make you tummy NOT hurt." Bilbo turned away and his eyes lit on the ice he had brought.  
  
  
  
It was half melted, but it was still cold. "Here Frodo, I did bring you a strawberry ice, with extra honey."  
  
  
  
Frodo looked at the watery red concoction in the bowl and burst into tears.  
  
  
  
Defeated, Bilbo sat on the chair next to Frodo and did the same. 


	8. Frodo declines

Three days went by in a dreary parade.  
  
Little Frodo would wake up hot with fever and Bilbo and Thomas Dobbins did what they could to lower his temperature. But he did not want to eat or drink much and the two adults were getting frantic.  
  
Poor little Frodo was slipping away.  
  
His dry hot skin did not respond to baths of any sort and the counter irritant solution offered by Mistress Barnstaple seemed to only make the child more fretful and miserable, so after the second try, Bilbo stopped using it.  
  
And now to add to the wee one's distress, he had blisters on his tummy from the counter irritant.  
  
  
  
Bilbo himself, was losing his appetite as he was consumed by worry and helplessness. And he did not sleep well, every little sound from Frodo's bed jerking him awake.  
  
  
  
  
  
The third afternoon, Bilbo was holding his little nephew's hand, and rubbing it repeatedly. Frodo did not stir. Even when he and Dobbins had poured some water down his throat and gotten him to swallow it, the child did not fuss.  
  
  
  
"Bilbo." Master Dobbins put his hand on the hobbit's shoulder. "I do not think there is anything more we can do. I have run out of ideas." The healer slumped into a nearby chair and put his head in his hands. "Poor little lad. He's burning up and burning away."  
  
  
  
"Well, I am not giving up. Hand me the bowl and a fresh towel, I shall try another bath to cool him off. And if you will be so kind as to give me a glass of the watered down fruit juice and honey, I shall try to get him to drink again."  
  
  
  
The healer shook his head but did as Bilbo asked.  
  
  
  
He had seen cases like this before, sadly enough. The little one slipping off into darkness and the family reluctant to let him go even though the child was in terrible pain and was not going to recover.  
  
  
  
As Bilbo and the healer lifted Frodo and the elder hobbit awoke his little nephew, Frodo's pain-filled eyes fell on them uncomprehendingly.  
  
  
  
"Where are the elves Uncle Bilbo?" he said hoarsely. "I heard them singing. They sing very nice." He coughed for a moment.  
  
  
  
The two adults looked at each other and Bilbo, swallowing his tears smiled tremulously and wiped his nephew's hair back from his oh so hot forehead.  
  
  
  
"The elves are only in your dreams little Frodo.."  
  
  
  
"No. No I can hear them Uncle. I can see them too. Pretty grey eyes, they always smile at me. He is coming. He said so."  
  
  
  
"Of course lad, of course." Bilbo bit back his tears.  
  
  
  
Finished washing Frodo down, the hobbit redressed the child, wincing at the sight of his abused flesh. And the heat of it. Oh stars in heaven! What had he done! What had he done?  
  
  
  
Bilbo, coming to a decision, looked up at the healer still watching in concern and said, "Mister Dobbins, as you say, there is nothing else you can do. I thank you for all your help." He stood and shook the man's hand solemnly. The healer paused and looked at the hobbit and then turned, shaking his head and quietly left. He did not look forward to hearing the little one had died.  
  
  
  
Bilbo got the last of the elvish painkiller and mixed in with some juice. Waking Frodo from his doze, he put the glass to the little ones parched lips and was relieved that Frodo drank it all.  
  
  
  
Laying him back, Bilbo put the glass aside and then bent and kissed his nephew. Slipping beside him in the bed, Bilbo gently picked up Frodo. Wincing at the terrible sound of his breathing, he adjusted the little one, who felt light as a feather in his arms until he cuddled him close against his chest.  
  
  
  
Giving into tears, Bilbo cried himself to sleep.  
  
  
  
  
  
The bedside candle had burned down to within an inch of the holder.  
  
  
  
A thin breeze disturbed the air of the room and made the candle flame dance over the two sleeping hobbits. A light thump was heard from the small dining table as well as the slight rustle of cloth.  
  
  
  
A figure came in quietly and standing for a moment at the bedside, wrapped in a swirling dark green cape, he frowned as he lay a hand on the little one's brow. He left it there for a minute and then slightly opening the child's nightshirt, moved his hand to the tiny chest, which was hot and clammy under his palm.  
  
  
  
Sighing, the figure looked at the elder hobbit, his frown turning into a slight smile. Poor Bilbo!  
  
  
  
And poor Frodo!  
  
  
  
Lifting the sick child from Bilbo's lap, he took the little hobbit to the unused bed and lay him gently down.  
  
  
  
Returning to Bilbo, he adjusted the older hobbit in the blankets, and lay a hand on his brow for a moment, knowing his friend needed some deep uninterrupted sleep.  
  
  
  
Bilbo sighed under the healer's hand and his head slipped to the side.  
  
  
  
Lord Elrond then turned his attention to the child.  
  
  
  
Dismayed by the signs of infection and the added misery of the counter irritant blisters, he turned to the bureau and looked through the bottles he had left. Where was his tincture for infection?  
  
  
  
Perplexed by its absence, he went to his box of medicines, which he had set on the table as he came in. He brought out several items that he knew he would need to tend to Frodo.  
  
  
  
He undressed the child and warming the air with a gentle glow of radiance from Vilya, he set to work.  
  
  
  
Uncertain how the child had gotten the blisters where he had, Elrond gently salving the sores and then lay a hand on them to send energy to speed the healing. The plight of the little one tore at his heart.  
  
  
  
The incision was badly infected. Pressing softly on it, he frowned at the tightness. He was going to have to re-incise the wound, drain it and clean it thoroughly.  
  
  
  
He turned to his box and removed his surgical kit.  
  
  
  
As he was doing so, Frodo stirred and opened his eyes. His head didn't feel quite so awful but his tummy still hurt.  
  
  
  
And he wasn't wearing a nightshirt again! "Uncle Bilbo?" he said his scratchy throat hurting terribly, "I am so thirsty---" He sucked in his breath in fear when he saw the tall figure at the table.  
  
  
  
The elven lord turned from his supplies and going to the pitcher nearby, he poured some water and a few drops of syrup of poppy into a glass for the child. Swirling the medicine, he brought it over to Frodo.  
  
  
  
The hobbit rubbed his dry eyes. "You ca-came back! I saw you! And I heard singing!"  
  
  
  
Elrond sat slowly next to the child and very carefully sat him up, mindful of the wounds.  
  
"Here little Frodo. Drink this." While the hobbit dutifully drank the medicine, Elrond smiled saying, "You heard our singing because you are an elf friend little one. Someone dear to the hearts of the Noldor."  
  
  
  
Frodo's voice echoed slightly in the now empty cup. "I saw you! I saw your eyes! "  
  
  
  
"Perhaps little one, it was just a dream." Elrond lay the child back and bent over him, his long dark hair swinging like curtains along his jaw. He brushed the hair off Frodo's forehead and then bent and kissed him. "Sleep now sweet one. Sleep and dream of your heart's content. I will be here when you awaken."  
  
  
  
Elrond carefully straightened the hobbit child's limbs and then got his surgical tools. He set to work opening up the incision, gently cleaning out the pus and coating the internal stitches with antiseptic tincture and then very carefully re-suturing the initial incision. Finished, he methodically rubbed some painkilling salve around the new stitches.  
  
  
  
Binding the wound, he straightened slowly and stretched out a small kink in his back. Cleaning his surgical instruments, he put away his supplies and then once again lay a hand on the child's abdomen, sending deep healing warmth through the flesh.  
  
  
  
Satisfied with his work, the healer got comfortable by the fire and wrote in his journal.  
  
  
  
  
  
As the sun rose, Elrond went to the shutters and opened them to let in the cool breeze and bird song. He then turned to the sleeping hobbits.  
  
  
  
Checking on Frodo first, he was pleased to see that the warmth of his flesh had cooled some and that the blisters were already drying up. The little one stirred as Elrond examined him and coughed in his sleep.  
  
  
  
Frowning at the sound, he turned to his box of medicines and moving many things, he found his vial of cough syrup at the bottom. It wasn't surprising that little Frodo had gotten a raw throat and cough in his condition. Bilbo would have to tell him if the child had any more complaints.  
  
He poured some cough syrup in a glass and added only a little water.  
  
Going over to the room service bell, he gave it a pull. He waited for the maid and when there was a discreet knock, he opened the door and immediately brought a finger to his lips.  
  
  
  
The maid's eyes went wide and she nodded opened-mouth.  
  
  
  
Smiling, Elrond spoke for her ears only. "Would you bring up a breakfast suitable for a hungry hobbit? And for the little one, some soft eggs, juice and porridge? Oh, and honey please and enough hot water for bathing and some tea."  
  
  
  
"Yes my lord," Fanny curtsied awkwardly and backed away hitting the corridor wall as she did so. Still looking at the elf lord with an open mouth, Elrond smiled as he softly shut the door.  
  
  
  
  
  
As he turned back to the room, he saw Bilbo stirring.  
  
  
  
"Good morning my friend. Sleep well?"  
  
  
  
"Lord Elrond!" Bilbo sat up, rubbed his eyes and jumped off the bed. Running over he took one of the elf lord's hands between his and squeezed it gratefully.  
  
  
  
"Oh my lord, I am so glad you are here! Little Frodo broke the bottle of medicine for infections and I-I tried everything to fix the problem, but he has not improved. And he is in such a decline! Can you help him?"  
  
  
  
"I have already done what I can Bilbo. He is sleeping." The healer looked at the little one. "Has he complained of a cough or sore throat?"  
  
  
  
"Yes, poor lad. He's been in a very bad way."  
  
  
  
"All right then. I have ordered breakfast, and hot water. It all should be here momentarily." Elrond sat down at the table and looked at the elder hobbit, his dark grey eyes glittering in the morning light. "Come tell me Bilbo, what happened to little Frodo? How did he get so ill?"  
  
  
  
"Well, I am not completely sure. He was mending quite nicely for several days and then, he began a decline. We think it was because he made a visit to the stables and may have gotten a bit dirty. And then the bottle of medicine you left got broken and I called in a local healer, Thomas Dobbins, a very kindly man. He did what he could and then I went to Mistress Barnstaple and she said try a counter irritant and that just gave Frodo blisters!"  
  
  
  
The hobbit put his head in his hands. "Little Frodo thought I was torturing him for having a bad tummy."  
  
Elrond was about to reply, when the two heard a wail come from the bed. 


	9. Frodo on the mend at last

Both adults quickly went to little Frodo's bedside.  
  
Elrond put a hand to his forehead and then, gently pulled down the blanket and pulled up the nightshirt. Placing his hand over the incision he was gratified to feel the flesh much cooler than it had been.  
  
  
  
"My-my tummy still hurts! I am sorry! " Elrond smiled and went to mix a painkiller for the little one while Bilbo carefully picked up Frodo and hugged him warmly. "No,no my lad. Do not worry. You have done nothing!" He pulled the child back and smiled. "Frodo, Lord Elrond came back to see how you are doing and he's fixed the problem."  
  
  
  
Elrond brought the glass with the medicine in it and handed it to the elder hobbit. "You had a bad infection, little one. I have taken care of that but you must help me by minding your uncle and staying in bed." He leaned forward and put a hand to the child's head affectionately. "And you must take your medicine. I have brought a treat for you Frodo, honey from the Grey Havens. It's especially sweet and light."  
  
  
  
Frodo's eyes lit up over the mug he was drinking, and quickly finishing the tart medicine he handed the cup back to his uncle. "Oh, may I try some?"  
  
  
  
"There's my lad!" Bilbo turned to the elven healer. "He is on the mend! Thank you my lord, thank you! He hasn't wanted to eat much these last few days."  
  
"I can see he needs some nourishment."  
  
  
  
Just then there was a discreet knock and because Bilbo was still holding Frodo, the elf lord went and answered the door.  
  
A beaming Dilly stood there (having gotten the order from a dazed Fanny) with a large tray. Behind her one of the stable lads stood with two buckets of hot water for a bath.  
  
  
  
Elrond pulled the door open to allow them to enter. The stable boy ducked his head respectfully and once Dilly had put the tray down, she bobbed a curtsey. She then turned and poked the fire into life, adding another log as she did so.  
  
  
  
Brushing her hands off on her apron she said smiling, "Anything else you be wanting my lord?"  
  
  
  
"Not at the moment, thank you."  
  
  
  
As Dilly curtseyed again, the stable boy nervously copied her motions. Elrond smiled as he shut the door.  
  
  
  
"Little Frodo, what do you say to a nice cooling bath?" Elrond went up to the child and picked him up, as Bilbo slipped off the bed.  
  
  
  
"I just had one the other night. I would like to try the honey first, if you please.'  
  
  
  
Bilbo laughed and looked at the elf lord. "Well, I see there is some porridge on the table Frodo my lad. How about I put some honey on that?"  
  
  
  
"Oh all right." The tiny child squirmed in the elf lord's arms as he brought him near the tub. "Do I have to take another bath? I am not dirty. I haven't played outside in days and days.maybe a month."  
  
  
  
"Yes, a bath is just what is needed right now." The elf knelt by the tub's side and gently undressed Frodo, while Bilbo got the breakfast ready.  
  
  
  
As he dipped the child into the warm water, Frodo tried to crawl back into the elf lord's arms. "No! No bath! It's too hot!"  
  
  
  
"No, it's just fine Frodo." Holding the child with one arm, he sank his hand in the water, leaving it there. "See? Not too hot."  
  
  
  
Pouting, Frodo slid down back into the tub, still holding hard to the elf lord, who smoothly disengaged Frodo's grasp so the child was completely immersed. Laying a hand on the incision under the water, he sent healing energy into it so the child would relax.  
  
  
  
Bilbo came and joined Elrond, with a towel spread on his lap ready to receive the little hobbit when he was finished.  
  
  
  
Frodo, happy to have the attention of both of the adults, and grateful that his tummy now did not hurt very much, decided to let out some energy and raising both arms he brought them down as hard as he could, splashing the healer and his uncle.  
  
  
  
Frodo giggled. And then both adults laughed. Seeing the elf lord holding on to the now squirming child, Bilbo got up and carefully wiped the elf lord's face.  
  
"Thank you my friend. I can see that Frodo is feeling much better!"  
  
  
  
Frodo delighted with their reaction decided to try again and was just about to splash, when the healer caught both his tiny hands in one of his and said. "That will be quite enough my little seal." He brought down the child's hands and then took a cup and poured water over Frodo's head.  
  
  
  
The child laughed and then relaxed as the elf lord began to carefully soap the curly locks beneath his hands, mindful of the suds dripping down the thin cheeks.  
  
  
  
Bilbo watching Elrond said wonderingly, "You are quite good with children, my lord."  
  
  
  
"I have three of my own, my dear Bilbo. Though it has been sometime since they were as small as this one." The last cup of water was poured over the child's head, rinsing the last of the soap out.  
  
  
  
Bilbo laughed out loud. "Frodo! You look just like Heather Bracegirdle's puppy Bouncer after his bath! Your hair is all wet and stringy!"  
  
  
  
Frodo began to pull at his hair as the elf lord lifted him out of the tub and stood him next to the fire. He examined the healing blisters and again lay a hand to the incision.  
  
  
  
Bilbo came up and wrapped the little one in the towel, about to take him back to his chair. But Frodo pouting again said plaintively. "Can't Lord Elrond dry me off?"  
  
Bilbo laughed again and handed the child back to Elrond who swiftly and efficiently dried his little patient.  
  
  
  
When he was finished, he slipped a clean nightshirt over the child, fluffed his hair up one more time and then handed him to his uncle. Drying himself off, he smiled down at the two hobbits and turned to get the porridge.  
  
  
  
Frodo smiled at his uncle and, suddenly feeling tired, leaned his head against his uncle's shoulder and yawned.  
  
  
  
Lord Elrond handed the elder the hobbit the bowl of cereal and said in a quiet voice, "He just needs to eat a little."  
  
  
  
Nodding, Bilbo adjusted the child in his arms and dipped the spoon into the warm milky cereal and brought it up to the child's mouth, who, like a hungry baby bird, opened his mouth automatically.  
  
  
  
Finishing about half of the cereal, his eyes began to flutter close and he said sleepily, "I'm tired Uncle Bilbo." he yawned and he licked his lips. "I liked the honey." His head drooped and with a small sigh, Frodo was asleep.  
  
  
  
Bilbo kissed his clean curls and putting the bowl aside, he held and rocked him, his head lying atop his nephew's.  
  
  
  
Elrond, over by the fire, smiled warmly at the two and silently went about cleaning up.  
  
  
  
Some minutes later, Bilbo laid the child down in his bed and wrapped him up. Rubbing his hands together briskly, he sat at the table and began to sample the breakfast dishes.  
  
  
  
As he ate, Lord Elrond went to the child's side and lay a hand on his forehead for a moment speaking softly in Quenya. Turning to Bilbo he said quietly, "Little Frodo will not remember this visit except as a pleasant dream Bilbo." The elf lord turned his head back toward the little hobbit. "It is best he remembers you and all your care."  
  
Bilbo looked at the tall healer and nodded slowly. "As you will my lord. Though I am sorry for it because he is obviously quite taken with you." Bilbo picked up a roll and thoughtfully buttered it. "Ah well. He would probably pester me endlessly about going to see the elves otherwise."  
  
Elrond went still for a moment and Bilbo looked at him curiously, tipping his head slightly at the elf lord's introspection.  
  
The dark grey eyes focused on the elder a hobbit again. "Frodo and I will meet again Bilbo."  
  
Wanting to question the elf, Bilbo closed his mouth. He had been told many years ago that it was wise not to meddle in the affairs of wizards. He eyed the elf as he sat at the breakfast table and poured some tea.  
  
Nor elves, either it would seem.  
  
Swallowing the last bit of roll as Lord Elrond sipped at his tea, Bilbo asked, "He will not have a relapse? He is on the mend for certain now?"  
  
  
  
"If he is watched carefully Bilbo, he should be fine in a week or so. He must take the medicine for his throat and the lingering infection in his abdomen. I can see that he needs diversion too. You may take him outside, but it would be best to carry him and to keep him from getting into any mischief. No matter how much he may plead."  
  
  
  
Bilbo sighed and sat back in his chair, patting his weskit comfortably. He felt not only replete with a good meal, but because his mind was eased considerably. Smiling he looked at the tall elven healer, who, at the moment, was packing up his box of medical supplies.  
  
  
  
He stood up and staring up at the elf he held out his hand again and Elrond, pausing, took it in one of his. "Thank you again for saving my little one my lord." Bilbo turned and looked at the sleeping child. "You know, he is a special lad."  
  
  
  
"And he loves you Bilbo. I think he needs the attention you give him too. Did you not tell me he is an orphan living in a big smial?'  
  
  
  
"Yes, with the Brandybucks in Brandy Hall."  
  
  
  
"Well perhaps Bag End can use a little one about."  
  
  
  
Bilbo grinned up at the elf. "Perhaps it can Lord Elrond, perhaps it can."  
  
  
  
He went over to the little one and brushed his hair off his forehead, saying thoughtfully, "Frodo Baggins of Bag End. It has a nice ring to it." 


End file.
